No one at the autobot base is happy. Megatron isn't either.
Really, nobody is happy except maybe M.E.C.H. and Airachnid

AN- Incoming references- The DJD and Drift/Deadlock from the IDW 2005 continuity get mentioned. But since Megatron in the Aligned continuity hails from the Pits of Kaon rather than hailing from Tarn as he does in the IDW-verse, 'Tarn' is called 'Kaon'. It is still the same crazy purple guy leading the DJD though, just with his name swapped, so don't get confused over why IDW Kaon would be in charge.

If you're not a reader of the IDW, don't worry about the above note XD
(...although if you're a Transformers fan, you really should go read More Than Meets The Eye because it is plain awesome)


"We have rookies everywhere," Ratchet grumbled. He was slouched in the side seat of the Jackhammer while its pilot took them back towards Jasper.

Their mission was a success. If it could ever feel like one.

As if trading away the keys to getting June Darby back could feel like anything more than murder.

The fact that Airachnid would likely have killed her regardless of getting her weapons or not proved to be little relief.

"'thought we just had one runnin' around," Wheeljack replied with a frown.

Granted, they'd both been frowning. The entire flight there; the entire flight back. Taking the route for the greater good never ended up feeling good.

Maybe that's why Optimus seemed to fail at it. Why he always chose the short term over the long term; a teammate or alien local over their dead planet or the war.

That, and his sad hope that redemption would still be possible. Granted, having two decepticon's defect recently had only served to bolster that hope. Ratchet, however, knew that a whole lot more than two cons had defected in the past and their 'redemption', to use Optimus's word, had never turned the tide of the war.

Normally he'd scold himself for thinking so pessimistically. But at the moment, heading back from destroying the weapon that could have saved June Darby's life, Ratchet could not garner even a touch of optimism.

"Smokescreen, yes, yes. But I still consider the other two autobot rookies, even if they are not rookies of war."

At this point, the old 'Team Prime' felt like only two-thirds of the base.

Not that Ratchet was trying to rush the others away.

"'guess you're right then." Wheeljack grunted, barely looking away from the controls. "Not that your base isn't always crowded. Between the new guys and the humans-"

The sentence cut off.

But it really was too late.

The duo stayed silent for the short bit of flight left. When they came down on the dirt, it was only Ratchet that shuffled out of the Jackhammer.

In a small comfort, the little ship did not take to the skies after it had dropped him off.

Ratchet walked into the base with no small amount of dread. Chances were high that Jack would be here with the other kids and he would have to tell the boy...

The room was quiet.

That took him off guard. The old medic glanced around and saw only Knock Out nearby. The red mech was leaning near the groundbridge controls, scrubbing at his claws with one of the many cloths he hoarded.

Sometimes it bothered Ratchet to see those claws. After rejoining the autobots, Drift had filed his down to blunt fingers again. Sharp, long digits were a hallmark of decepticons; with the way he'd rushed into getting the autobrand, Ratchet had expected Knock Out to do the same.

But what bothered him far more than the sight of a hallmark decepticon's servos was the sight of Knock Out alone.

"Where are the others?" Ratchet snapped. The young medic glanced up away from his cleaning in surprise.

"Erm, they're out," he answered, a bit pointlessly. That much Ratchet had already gathered. His unimpressed expression prompted the younger mech to continue. "Most of the team is looking for an Iacon relic. Smokescreen is scouting the location of another relic right now-"

What?

"Alone?"

The red and black optics widened at his tone.

"Well, yes," came the slow reply, "There weren't exactly any more of us to look."

Other than himself. But Ratchet couldn't complain at that; it was common protocol to leave a mech in charge of the groundbridge.

"Have you heard from either team?" he asked.

The flashy medic shrugged.

It was at that moment that the comm lines lit up. Ratchet had programmed phone calls to go straight into the team's comm line long before; when it had become clear that the humans would be here to stay.

The alert on screen came from Jack's cell.

"Knock Out!" the boy was saying urgently. "You gotta get Optimus here now!"

Wait-

"Smokescreen went for the relic! It's called...it's called the star saber? We need backup!"

The star saber? Had he just said the star saber?

But of more importance...

The two medics looked at each other. Knock Out wilted under Ratchet's glare.

A moment later and the old medic hissed: "You let Jack do what?"


The relic continued to move as they tracked it through the fog.

Something was not right.

Optimus slowed as he led his squadron.

"Ugh!" Arcee slapped the locator in frustration. "Every time we get close to the beacon, the signal moves."

Bulkhead groaned, either at hearing that or in the frustrating lull that had overfallen all of them. "All this legwork is giving me itchy fists."

On the other side of the group, wisely distanced from the wrecker, Breakdown let his hammer wave impatiently.

"Seconded," the neutral agreed.

Their moments of united, if impatient, thought made Optimus a little bit proud. But now was not the time for such small happiness.

"It seems we have been led astray by a decepticon trick," he stated slowly.

No doubt Soundwave's work.

If that was the case, then it would be best to return to base. A decoy signal was only meant to hide a real relic; and they would need to obtain that very relic Megatron deigned vital.

"Knock Out?" he commed.

There was only static on the line.

But the green glow up a groundbridge roared to life behind them. It was his old friend who ran through rather than the young medic they'd left in control of communications and transport.

"We have a situation."

As he was apt to, the medic did not elaborate.

He did not need to.

"Return to base," the Prime ordered clearly.

Upon entering, Optimus was struck by the ill mood. Ratchet had moved back to the controls and stood with urgency written across his face. Nearby, Knock Out was slouched. What was almost regret seemed covered in an air of insult, offense.

It reminded Optimus that he still needed to speak with the young recruit about how to take admonishing.

Reprimands were unavoidable; it did not make one in anyway lesser to be faced with a rebuke. It merely made them mortal.

"What is the situation?" he asked.

"Smokescreen has confronted Megatron and a squadron of the decepticon army over a relic while you were gone," Ratchet explained quickly. "Someone let Jack go with him. They're both in danger."

At that, Arcee bristled up dangerously.

"We cannot allow either of our comrades to be hurt," Optimus declared, readying himself to order a new groundbridge.

"Oh, and Optimus?" the medic interrupted first. "The relic is the star saber."

The Matrix inside him would not let Optimus doubt or panic at such news. Even if it should be false news.

"Bridge us there."

They arrived to a scene of chaos.

But the Matrix would not let him stall in surprise here either.

Although it was merely sunset, as this relic seemed to be in a more eastern timezone than Jasper's now nightfallen location was, the valley they stood in was darkened. Light from the sky was blocked out by a mountain of rock; a mountain suspended and lifting towards the Nemesis.

"Go to Smokescreen-" Optimus pointed at where vehicons were carrying the rookie towards Megatron. "Arcee, recover Jack. I will go for the star saber."

The team tore into action while he drove for the rocks near where the mountain was raised. While gun fire and shouts could have distracted others, Optimus remained solely focused on leaping from boulder to boulder, driving as fast as he could on flat surfaces, trying his hardest to reach the star saber before either the mountain lifted too high to attain it or the decepticons engaged him in battle.

The battle came soon. Flight-born vehicons, joined by Megatron, had reached his elevation and were shooting. Optimus could not allow himself to pause in his ascent and fight them off.

He could not afford to lose this relic.

A ledge of rock provided the ramp he needed. He drove off of it and let himself carry through the air. Even as a shot connected with his armor and knocked him off course, Optimus remained focused on reaching the hilt hanging out of the mountain.

The roar of engines got louder. The ground below got closer.

But the hilt was still in reach. And Optimus wrapped his servo around it, breaking his fall and letting him hang airborne.

The saber reacted to his touch, to the Matrix, instantly. It whirred in power and slid free of its stone seathe.

And so he dropped.

The height no longer worried him.

His pursuers did not double back. Instead, they transformed above the warship and dropped atop it.

There was barely any time to revel in the success. In the air above, the clamp of the cable opened and the mountain dropped.

Optimus could hear it roaring as it rolled over the hill towards him. He could hear his team panicking, yelling for him to return.

But he did not heed either sound. The only noise that mattered was the hum of the Matrix; both within him and inside this weapon of Prima's.

And then he turned and carved through the mountain of earth in one swipe.

All sounds from his team dimmed away. There were no others.

He expected that there was panic aboard the Nemesis. He expected it and so he turned his head upwards to look at its bridge.

You lose, Megatron.

The war could come to its end. There was no defense that warship, formerly the largest advantage the decepticons held over his autobots on Earth, could offer against the star saber's might.

Optimus continued to stare upwards. He believed in his spark that the decepticons could see his gesture, could see the few moments of reprieve he offered them, could feel the time needed for this moment's depth to sink in.

Then the wait he offered ended. Optimus ran forward, never letting his optics disconnect from the Nemesis-

He could not look away. Not if this was to be the end. Not if this was to be the moment all those sparks on the warship would flicker away.

He would not allow himself to look away from such a magnitude of responsibilities.

Not even as he cut forward and let the energy rip through the air towards the back end of the retreating warship.

For such a big, strong bot, you're soft-

Never taking the advantage to snuff Megatron. Never taking the step to end the war.

The Nemesis was retreating and he struck at it regardless. Smoke billowed outwards and the warship dropped before righting itself. It curved up in the air but its ascent still left it within striking distance. The ship was damaged. Another hit could drop it for good.

But this time, Optimus could not bring the saber up to make that strike.


Arcee was furious. But she was not the only one.

Normally, being scolded by her would've made Jack cave. She knew that.

Now, the teen refused to return to his home even after she'd snapped at him to do so.

"Not until mom's back!" he snapped.

It reminded all of them of the situation they were still trapped in.

"And you!" she spun away from her small partner to scold someone else. It did not feel possible to scold Jack anymore now that he had brought up his mother.

Arcee knew well enough what it was like to have a loved one in danger.

What it had been like when Cliffjumper was missing but his life signal remained online.

The stress that waiting, without any knowledge of what was happening to him or if he would live, had summoned. It had almost felt worse than receiving the news his signal had gone offline; anticipation was a different kind of terror from grief.

"We didn't need another child in our ranks-" she snapped at Smokescreen.

The rookie deflated further. His optics looked down at the floor.

"Look, Arcee...I was wrong. 'm sorry again. And if you need to kick me off of Team Prime-"

An idea which seemed preposterous after they'd allowed Knock Out and Breakdown into their ranks. The rookie was dumb, but he didn't have a stained ledger like those two.

Her point wasn't to kick him off.

She just...she needed to vent somehow.

With two steps, Optimus had approached them both. "Disregard for human safety, or anyone's safety, will not be tolerated," he said and, like he always did, it made the room fall silent. "Do you understand?"

Smokescreen slumped further. Nearby, Knock Out was looking pointedly away from all else.

Arcee understood why Ratchet had torn into him earlier. The flashy medic should never have allowed Jack to go.

"Fully, sir," the rookie replied.

As though that was enough (which it likely was), Optimus stepped back to address them all.

"We must never lose sight of the fact that upon this Earth we are titans, and such power must be used wisely."

He set the star saber against the groundbridge controls to better face them all.

"There are those here who would not adhere to that," he continued. "They would threaten and harm the people of this world and any other. We must act against these forces."

It was little secret what, or who, he was talking about.

The acid, the musk of Airachnid's interrogation room, the rot of the dead, all around; impossible, but vividly so. Arcee clenched her fists tight.

"Ratchet." Optimus turned to the medic and gave a short nod. "Call in agent Fowler and Rafael. We may need their expertise in navigating human mechanics and politics."

He glanced back at the rest of them.

"We will no longer stall to answer Airachnid's threat."

The acid, the musk-

Her cry of "Tailgate!" desperate, so desperate, to get a response-

"Optimus," she stepped forward even as Ratchet had moved the Prime aside in order to bridge Raf in. "You can't mean to give her what she wants. Who knows what Airachnid will do with a weapon like Tox-En?"

To their side, the groundbridge lit up. Arcee barely noticed when Raf was not the only human to come through. What did it matter if Miko was with him? If that meant the two of them were distressed enough over June's safety, and their own, that they had likely gotten her to sleep over at Raf's already crowded house?

It shouldn't, it couldn't, her focus was here-

Besides, none of the children should be here. She was going to do everything in her power to get June home safely, but if anything was to go wrong then the children should not have to hear it in the command center.

"She won't get it."

It wasn't Optimus that answered. It was Ratchet, head tilted back ever so slightly as he continued to hail Fowler.

Somehow, the quiet, distracted comment sucked all other noise out of the room. Even Miko had gone quiet, pausing next to Raf on the way up the stairs to Jack.

"What does that mean?" the oldest teen asked. When there was no immediate answer, he repeated his question with a crack of urgency betraying itself in his voice. "What do you mean?"

"It means-" a new voice interrupted the room. The drawl came from Wheeljack, who was standing behind the others inside the roadway tunnel out of the base. "-that the doc and I already dealt with our Tox-En problem."

That meant...

"At the expense of an unpopulated and destroyed facility in Mexico, yes," Ratchet confirmed, returning to the screen.

This time Arcee got the distinct feeling he was not doing it to multitask; he was hiding.

"We could not risk it falling into Airachnid's servos."

Arcee knew her junior partner well enough to count down the seconds it took before his outburst.

"You did WHAT?" Jack yelled. It was quite unlike him to ever go so loud in volume. She found herself cringing in sympathy. Feeling her own guilt about Airachnid's continued presence alive on Earth was bad, but it paled in comparison to his own grief and fear.

"We needed that, Ratchet! We needed it to save my mom!"

Any anger she'd felt earlier when he and Smokescreen had pulled their stupid stunt fully evaporated.

"No-now she'll kill her-" he continued, "We don't have o-our bargaining chip and my mom will die! She'll die, Ratchet! She'll die-"

Cybertronian or human- it didn't matter. Arcee knew what panic looked like. She'd worn it enough times.

The two-wheeler slid over to the catwalk and prepared to take the teen away from this all. Not to go recess, no, but to- to be like Cliff had been when she'd go through outbursts.

It's not alright, Cee. It should never have happened. But you've got bots here for you.

You've got me.

You'll always have me.

"Jack.." Raf interrupted the other boy's mantra by tugging nervously on his gray sleeve. "Maybe not. We tricked Soundwave with the virus in Laserbeak. If we could trick the smartest con out there, we could trick Airachnid."

Even with his nervous quiet, Raf had taken all focus in the room.

They knew that sound.

They all (with the exception of perhaps Smokescreen) knew the sound of Raf scheming.

"What do you mean?" Bumblebee asked his little friend. "Do you have a plan?"

Raf pushed his glasses up with one finger.

"Not exactly a plan," he said, "Just an idea. I think I've figured out where M.E.C.H. is making their cybertronian tools. If we could set up a trap for Airachnid, tell her to go to that location in order to get her ransom, maybe we could end up killing two birds with one stone?"

The team cast glances around at each other as they mulled the thought over.


The Nemesis was leaving a smoke trail.

It felt like the least of their worries at the moment.

Megatron stood at the helm, looking at the screen that they had watched Optimus Prime taunt them on earlier.

He had never known Optimus to be the taunting type.

The warlord could not erase that image from his processor. Through Soundwave's many reaches of surveillance, they watched every moved Optimus made after taking the star saber.

That cold glare made Megatron feel something akin to an emotion he had long banished from himself. Just as Optimus had proven in the cave after Airachnid's insecticon trap, his rival leader was willing to go to lengths he'd never before been willing to go.

It had now dawned on Megatron that he too would need to adapt.

But how to do so? How to indeed...

There were many pressing matters in this latest turn of the war. First and foremost was the state of his army. Megatron had lost four officers in less than a planetary solar cycle. His vehicon troops were spread out to protect mines across this world. Others came to an end at the servos of the autobots. Not unexpected at all; they had been created for such a purpose under the hope their numbers would provide an advantage.

But there was another army on this planet. The insecticon hives. Not led by him, joining the might of his warship and doubling his forces, but led by a traitor more than willing to kill him. A large chunk of this hive had been incinerated in the Nemesis's canons during her failed coup, but Megatron only saw this as a loss. Those warriors he'd vaporized could have belonged to him. They could have provided him with an exceptional edge against the autobots.

Both his vehicon army and Airachnid's insecticon one faced their own enemy as well; the pesky organics that had abducted Breakdown. To have his vehicons turned against him was worse than to have them killed. It was better to face the enemy with a ratio of 1:1 than to allow it to become 0:2; but this was exactly what this..M.E.C.H. group did. The spawn of Unicron took after their creator far more than they would admit to doing.

Pests. But ones he could not ignore. Why else had he allowed Dreadwing to continue his otherwise useless crusade against mere humans?

To top all of that off, the autobots had increased in ranks while his own armies dwindled. First, Knock Out and Breakdown had gone traitor and defected. As delightful as it would have been in past vorns to sic Kaon and his rabid team after the two traitors, the fact remained that the war on Earth required a far different touch than the war in the stars had. What mattered was less an insult to the pride of the decepticon cause and more the mere fact that his army had decreased by two while Optimus's had increased by the same two. And this cycle had proven that they had taken on another autobot who had declared himself 'Smokescreen'.

The 'first and foremost' reason also happened to be his strongest reason for even considering what he was now.

Even with his armies, his loyal second and third in command, his warship- Megatron seemed to be losing. Somehow, impossibly so, but somehow, he was falling behind.

So he was forced to mull over all the factors and what options he had.

First came those factors. What was different as of late compared to the state of his army only orns prior?

The high command, for one, had changed multiple times recently. First, he had prepared for a change in commands before he had led Starscream to the mine in which he had planned to terminate him. Then came the seeker's defection and Airachnid's promotion. Her stint as 2IC had not lasted long. After her treason, the position had gone to Dreadwing and it had remained with him to the present.

So he would think on Dreadwing's usefulness then.

The bulky seeker was a good warrior. He could keep up with Optimus himself, a fact that happened to anger Megatron but a skill that had to be admonished. He could withstand far more damage than Starscream or Airachnid could. His duty kept him focused on his task, though his honor was frustrating. And he was, like his deceased twin, unarguably loyal to Megatron.

The warlord could say with absolute certainty that Dreadwing would never betray him. Even if Megatron were to renounce the cause altogether and order his armies to drop to their knees in front of Optimus Prime (curse the thought), he had no doubt Dreadwing would do so.

But therein lay one of his problems. His loyalty was blinded. It was centered entirely around Megatron himself. It was a long forgotten factor of certain bodyguard classes of old; a focus on their singular master, no matter what path that master took.

Dreadwing was loyal to Megatron- not to the decepticon cause.

And in that he failed to adequately lead the armies on this ship. The seeker focused on one mech only and not the whole.

His second problem related to that. Dreadwing had been distracted from the cause as of late. He had began to focus on one vehicon and was determined to follow its requests to the end. Since it just so happened that such requests related to removing this M.E.C.H. group from all equations, Megatron had allowed the missions. But they still factored as distractions for his 2IC.

It seemed that Dreadwing was a worthy officer of small squadrons, a fearless warrior, and a mech who would not try to stab him in the back to take the army for himself.

And it seemed that sort of mech was not enough for the decepticon cause to succeed. Optimus had a weapon of the Prime's now. He had nearly three times as many officers as Megatron did, if he were to include himself in that count.

Megatron would need to revamp his armies in order to better face the autobots, the insecticon hordes, and the human puppetry of his drones.

He needed more numbers. And he needed more officers fit to lead them.

Soundwave remained his third and always would. But Soundwave had slipped as of late, although he had returned to his many tasks with admirable vervor.

Other than Soundwave and Dreadwing, who was he left with to count on? Who among the vehicons could adequately manage the many tasks aboard the Nemesis, direct armies, and strategize in areas that Megatron was too busy to strategize in?

He was exhausted trying to manage it all. Smaller scale strategies should never have had to be dealt with by him and yet they were now:

The rising ranks of all his enemies while his own shrank demanded action.

It all demanded that he increase his own ranks as well. That he prevent any of his enemies from getting a hold of a single capable mech more when he himself could have that mech.

But curse Optimus, the traitors, and the organics for forcing this upon him. His fists ground on the podium before him for a brief moment of withheld anger and frustration. His third stood nearby watching, but never commenting on his behavior.

Megatron sighed. "Soundwave," the warlord said what he had hoped not to have to: "Where is Starscream?"